


Shall fate be turned

by emocsibe



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mild Kink, Mild Sexual Content, Qunari Culture and Customs, Qunlat (Dragon Age) in minimal quantity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emocsibe/pseuds/emocsibe
Summary: Saemus Dumar had wanted nothing more and nothing less than a friend, one who didn't care about his status or ties, one who appreciated him for his own self and merits. In Ashaad, he'd found this friend, and slowly grew to hope for more - but now he had to face the fact that Qunari knew no romance.
Relationships: Ashaad/Saemus Dumar
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15
Collections: Black Emporium 2020





	Shall fate be turned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilgumshoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilgumshoe/gifts).



> Okay so, to start off, I've deleted a lot of wips, then I got to 1k words with one and loathed it. It's a thousands thanks to @SheenaWilde that I have this version now, and I honestly can't thank her enough times for it.  
> Second, I always thought Saemus Dumar to be around 20? Apparently he's 15 when he meets Ashaad -who is 20? Bioware explain -, but since requester asked for no underage content, and I had a lot of the fic already done when I realised both Saemus' age and this criteria for the gift work (my memory is horrid, forgive me), I aged him up a bit.  
> Lastly, I made up some stuff about Qunari culture - things we have no info about, but as for the known stuff, I tried to stick as close to canon informations as possible.

Saemus Dumar had known Ashaad for two months that day, and he wanted to surprise the mapmaker with something nice. He didn’t really have friends, only associates whom his father approved, and he wanted to show his only friend how much he treasured his company. During the night, when everyone had already retired, he’d snuck out to the pantry and snatched a bottle of wine - fine enough to be a nice gift, but not expensive enough to warrant a search if it’s absence was ever noticed -, some of the tastier cheese rolls and a loaf of bread the servants had put away for the morning. He’d have felt bad for taking it, but he was also one of the residents of the keep, he might have gotten really hungry if someone asked, and anyways, there had been more of everything in the pantry. He knew for sure that not a single person would go hungry in his father’s house.

He’d snatched up a quilt from his couch, and with that in his hands, he threw on the backpack waiting at the side of her bed, full of food and wine, and as silently as he’d raided the food before, he snuck out of the keep. 

He absolutely hated travelling through Kirkwall at night, because even if his father largely ignored the state of the city, it was dangerous after the sun set, and a lonely figure would be a great target for most outlaws waiting for prey. He’d learnt which streets and squares to avoid to get to the coast even before meeting Ashaad for the first time, since discovering the city and the surrounding areas had always been a favoured pastime of his, let alone a way to get out of his father’s sight for some hours. Now, it seemed that even fate favoured his plan, as he arrived to the outskirts without any troubles or encounters, and from here, Saemus knew he only had to watch out for stray wildlife, since the coast was usually void of anything more dangerous than a nug if you went along the right path to the right place. 

As he walked closer to the ocean, the sound of the waves grew louder as they crashed against the rocks, and soon he also felt the fresh smell of the open water. It was a lovely feeling, especially after some stifling days in the keep that usually had a stale smell that drove Saemus mad. But out here, walking freely towards the water, towards a pleasant day and a good friend, he let that thought wash away, for he didn’t want to focus on anything else. His home, his father and his expectations could wait until him and Ashaad had properly celebrated - which he intended to enjoy to the fullest. 

**

The relationship between him and Ashaad was unlike any other he’d ever had, and he suspected the same went for the Qunari as well; Ashaad had been silent the first few time they’d met, but over the first weeks, he’d grown less cold around Saemus. If Saemus asked, he answered, and after a while, Ashaad let him join on his trips over the coast while mapping it. Sometimes they’d sit for hours in one place, Ashaad silently handing over some fragments of a would-be map to Saemus to look at while he worked on other pieces. Around the end of the third week, the slip of paper Ashaad had handed over wasn’t a piece of map but a drawing of the shipwrecks in the water - a beautifully drawn image, portraying the real landscape without any visible flaws. 

“I don’t indulge much in this useless activity” Ashaad had told him then “, it is not my calling.”

Saemus - already knowing some things about the Qun - had sighed, and lifted his head to look at Ashaad.

“It could help your people get to know the coast. And even if it wouldn’t, you fulfill your job excellently, why not allow yourself a bit of this, too? I’m not sure how it goes for you, but we humans, even elves and dwarves, burn out if we don’t indulge in some of our wants from time to time. Maybe this seems useless under the Qun… But maybe it’s still good for you.”

Ashaad had hummed, but Saemus hadn’t seen any trace of anger or resentment on his face, but his words had clearly left him thinking. 

Some weeks after, when they’d been sitting in a cave after being surprised by a sudden rainstorm, Ashaad had pulled out another parchment, and handed it to Saemus without a word. This time, the drawing had featured no landscape, but Saemus’ portrait. It was less refined than the landscape, but Saemus had been impressed all the same - Ashaad had taken time to make it, even though it was deemed useless. He’d smiled at Ashaad, scooted closer and laid his head on his shoulder.

“You have a talent for this, you know? Do the Qunari have artists?”

Ashaad let out a small huff, one that Saemus had come to learn was amused, then answered.

“We have the same needs the Bas do - we have tailors and bakers, sailors and fighters. We have artists as well - sculptors and illustrators alike. In a way, some blacksmiths are artists as well.”

“They are the ones who engrave the metal on your horns, right? That’s impressive, and truly a form of art.” Saemus’d raised a hand and ran it over the surface of a ring on Ashaad’s horns. After a while Ashaad had reached up and took his hand away from the accessory. 

“Your people have complicated feeling for intimacy, do they not?” 

“Ah, well, most of us do, yes” Saemus had said, and Ashaad had kept holding his hand. “Why?”

“Touching one’s horns, or their base is not done outside of mating.” Ashaad’s tone had remained completely neutral, yet the corner of his mouth twitched upwards a bit, just like when something Saemus had said had amused him.

“Oh. I apologise then? Have I offended you?”

“Qunari only mate to create an offspring to carry on the teachings of the Qun. I have no such purpose here. You have not… offended me.”

“I keep hearing about it in the keep, when the guards think I don’t pay attention. Coupling and the girls in the Rose… It sounds fun in theory, but I can’t imagine doing it with anyone I know. Well, just one of them, truly. I think most Bas would find life truly strenuous if they couldn’t do it outside of child-making purposes” Saemus’d said, laughed and snuggled closer to Ashaad. 

“Qunari do engage in casual sex, too, but it is done to refocus the mind and relax the body. It has no other purposes.”

“Bas do that as well” added Saemus, then thought for a moment. “Does this mean that you don’t do it with someone you love… But with whoever is there when you need it?”

“To answer that, we have Tamassrans. Educators, caregivers who help us out with our needs when they arise. If they aren’t around, yes, we find someone convenient. It has no ties to love, however. Under the Qun, we don’t form those bonds like you do.” Ashaad reamined silent after that, but after some thinking, he added “You are more open about this than your kin usually is. ”

Saemus nodded, and for a moment, he felt sadness rise in his chest. To not feel love the way he could - that he already might - feel for Ashaad… But he had his company, his warmth and his attention, and Saemus quickly grew content with that. Ashaad was enough, without love or a formal bond or a friendship that had a name.

“Maybe you’re rubbing off on me. Or maybe I don’t feel nearly as uncomfortable talking about anything to you as I do with others. It’s refreshing.”

Ashaad had hummed at that, and put a hand on Saemus’ shoulder. 

After it had stopped raining and they’d parted ways to get back to their respective homes, Saemus had found the keep even more bland than usual. 

**

As he neared the spot where Ashaad had said he’d work this week, he grew happier and his steps quicker to get to his friend as soon as possible. The sun was just rising, and Saemus knew that Ashaad started his work when the morning light was just enough to walk without a lantern. He wanted to surprise him, get everything ready by the time Ashaad would arrive. He trotted up to the shallow cave, checked for spiders and bandits, and luckily having found none, he started to set down the quilt. Saemus left the food in the bag, hoping that it wouldn’t attract too many bugs and other such wondrous creatures, and leant against the entrance of the cave to watch the sun rise. As always, seeing the red and golden rays colour the waves made his chest feel full of something wonderful, a feeling somewhere between hope and happiness - something that made him feel content in the here and now. 

Soon, a familiar figure emerged from the cover of the boulders lower down around the path, and Saemus couldn’t help but smile.

“Ashaad!” He exclaimed as the man drew closer, and threw himself in his arms. He was over the moon this dawn, and he wanted his friend to know that, too. 

“I’ve prepared something for us, if you’d care to join?” He asked, and leant a bit back to be able to look up at Ashaad’s face. His expression didn’t change much, but a tiny smile still appeared. 

“I have some time to spare. Even if I begin later” he stopped, shook his head a bit, then put a hand on Sameus’ shoulder as the boy led him to the cave “my work is not appraised often.”

“I hope I won’t get you in trouble, Ashaad. I just want to spend this morning with you, if you’d care for that. If it’s hindering you…”

“Kadan, if I say my time is yours, it is. I’m not a Bas who says one thing, and means another.”

They stopped at the entrance of the cave, and Saemus smiled up at Ashaad, and for now, he thought he understood that certainty the Qun provided and Ashaad had told him about; Ashaad had said he can spare time, so he must have meant it, and Saemus trusted him. It was the absolute truth - one Saemus had rarely seen before. 

“You’ve never said that word before. Teach it to me, please?”

“Kadan. It means a lot of things - but for now, it means that I consider us close. Maybe it could be translated as ‘friend’ in this case.”

“Ashaad…” Saemus said, his breath caught in his chest at those words “I’m happy you consider me worthy of that, then.”

Saemus led them to the quilt to sit down, and after they were both seated, he pulled out the bread and cheese from his bag. It wasn't much, he knew, but it had a certain feeling to share this simple meal with someone he liked, something his father and mother had supposedly shared once, a long time ago. He handed the cheese and a knife to Ashaad while he cut the bread, his thoughts silently returning to his previous memory.

“You know, I had a little sister. Or rather, my parents had a daughter, but she died before I was born. I was wondering if you had any siblings?”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. We don’t live in families like you do, so even if my ancestors had any other children, I wouldn’t know of it.”

“No families? That is almost as much appealing as it is not. I argue so much with my father, sometimes it would feel better if we weren’t in such close contact.”

Silence fell, but Ashaad seemed deep in thought. 

“He has an untrue idea about your place - under the Qun, we are assigned our roles by Tamassrans, and we find peace in knowing that we are where we should be.”

Saemus took a bite of his food, considered Ashaad’s words for a moment, and he had to agree with it. His father had always hoped that one day, Saemus would discover a deep buried interest towards politics and a future being the viscount, but either it was buried too deep for him to find, or simply did not exist within him. He wanted to help people - and while being in a place of power could help with that, it would also tie his hands and stifle his words. 

“What place would you assign for me if it was your task? I know you are no Tamssran, but you must have an opinion.”

“I’d pull you away from your keep and send you to those you talk about - the poor of your society, the ones cast aside. You can understand their words and their troubles even though you have suffered none of it. You look at people others would distrust and avoid, and you draw them in, you make them feel… part of something.” Ashaad put down the bread he was holding, and turned to Saemus, who’d stopped eating as well. He observed as Saemus’s expression went through several quick changes: from pleased to pensive, then to surprised.

“Do I make you feel like that, too? Because I want to. I mean” he started, and took one of Ashaad’s hands in his “I like to be with you and I’m so happy you think of us as friends. It means so much to me, you can’t even imagine.”

There was silence in the cave then - the minutes crawled by, and for once, Saemus wanted Ashaad to be more rash, to talk without less consideration at times, to break this Maker damned quiet that had settled on them. It wasn’t uncomfortable, or at least Ashaad didn’t make it so; Saemus knew it was only in his head where intrusive thoughts and feelings battled the confidence he’d gained around his friend. 

“I have our meetings to look out for when life in the keep gets unbearable and knowing that you’ll be here, it helps me keep my sanity. I want to give back something to you, but I don’t know how. So, if I can ever help, in any way, with anything truly, I’m here.”

Ashaad nodded, and returned to his food, while Saemus pulled out the wine from his pack. He offered it to the Qunari with a small smile.

“It’s not very strong, but I’ve heard people say that this brand tastes good.”

“I’m used to stronger drinks” Ashaad accepted the bottle, and in the absence of any glasses, he drank it from the bottle. “You concern is noted and appreciated, but this is… Barely alcohol.”

As he handed it back, Saemus couldn’t help but ask about Qunari drinks, and Ashaad was more than willing to tell him all about Maraas-Lok, a kind of alcohol that was produced and greatly favoured by his people - and which would burn a hole through Saemus’ throat if he were to try it, according to Ashaad. When Saemus only accepted the critique and agreed with that observation, he also had to add that usually he wasn’t one for drinking. 

“Some of the wine father gets as a gift from wealthy nobles tastes good, but more often than not, they only have a good name and not a good taste. But this one” he added silently, after his third swig from the bottle “, this has a nice taste to it.”

“Watch out how much you drink, then” came the warning from Ashaad, but Saemus knew that it was only a friendly suggestion and not a sign of him seeing Saemus unable to draw the line for himself. He wished his father and the other nobles who came to the keep on occasion would allow him the same freedom when lecturing him - he was about to celebrate his eighteenth birthday a week later, having passed the real date just a day ago, he felt he could make informed decisions on his own limits and life choices. His father begged to differ, and most of the time, treated him like a toddler whose every step had to be assessed thoroughly before getting approval to take it. 

Saemus was so lost in his thoughts that he barely noticed Ashaad move, but then he felt a touch against his cheek, and with a small jolt, he turned his head to look at his friend. Ashaad was close, looking straight at Saemus, and his thoughts jumped from his father and his annoyance to his friend, their closeness and Ashaad’s face. It was a handsome face, one he’d forgotten his eyes on far more times than what he’d dare to admit, and now it was so close to his own. Hope filled his chest, because while being friends with Ashaad was the greatest thing ever, being romantically involved would be even more - but no. He told himself to stop hoping, for the man had told him that Qunari don’t do romance, but how else should he have interpreted this? He let himself debate for a short second, and then, after Ashaad had leaned even closer, and it just couldn’t be anything else, Saemus tilted his head upwards and touched his lips to Ashaad’s. It was so quick, and so chaste, but Saemus felt his heart almost leap out of his chest, because this was it, this was something that felt just as right as breathing and better than any other touch he’d ever shared with anyone. 

He pulled away, and that was when he noticed the weird look on Ashaad’s face, that slight questioning look in his eyes - and he felt the world stop for a heartbeat. Did he…? Did he read Ashaad wrong? 

Saemus felt himself panic, felt his heart break, because he’d stepped over that line, maybe even fucked up his chance to stay with Ashaad, what should he do, what can be done now? And then Ashaad moved, his hand still cradling Saemus’s cheek, gentle as ever, and with his free arm he brought the boy closer to his chest and embraced him. 

“What you said earlier goes both ways - whatever you need, I shall provide it for you. Do you wish for us to be intimate, kadan?”

The question hit Saemus almost harder than any rejection would have, and for a second, he hesitated. He’d have wanted that, yes, if Ashaad wanted it as well, but something in that question still bugged him. While he understood the no romance aspect of his friend's culture, and listened in awe to how free they could be with their desires otherwise, he still had his very human reservations about being this casual with the topic. 

“Would you want that? Being with me - would that not damage our friendship?”

The _“would me desiring more from you damage it”_ went unsaid, and Saemus could only hope that Ashaad didn’t notice that his unease came from something different than his people’s tendency to overcomplicate matters of desire. 

“I’d cherish it, as I do everything else from you” murmured Ashaad and captured Saemus’ lips, and this kiss was a far cry from the previous one - it was a pull towards something more, something exciting and new, a wanted heat that tugged at Saemus’ mind. Warmth spread though his body, stopping and piling up around his stomach and he opened his mouth to Ashaad’s advances. It felt wonderful and tangled, hot and messy, yet controlled and safe. He sneaked his hands around Ashaad’s neck and buried his fingers within that wonderful, wonderful white hair, and at the next searing kiss, he let himself tug at the strands. The sound Ashaad made at that went straight to his groin, and he repeated it, twisted the soft hair around his fingers and let the sounds and the next kiss silence his fears. 

“Ashaad please” Saemus breathed as they parted “, please.”

And Ashaad, considerable less vocal in his pleasure smiled and pulled Saemus into his lap, and Saemus had to swallow back a moan because there was a bulge he landed on and it wasn't small by any means, and heat shot up his back so fast and so hard he almost doubled over under its intensity. He could almost imagine it, how much better it would feel than his fingers on lonely and restless nights - and with that, he knew his walls had fallen, and no matter what Ashaad asked for was his for the taking. He leant his head forward and kissed along Ashaad’s face, his neck, and by the time he’d gotten to his shoulders - nice and strong -, his hands had also found the drawstrings of the Qunari’s trousers. He slid his fingers into it, and let his fingers wrap around Ashaad’s cock, and as his mind had caught up to what his hand was feeling, he shot a delighted yet surprised look to his smirking company, and unconsciously licked his lips. He wanted to have his hands and his mouth on that thing, but above anything else, he wanted it inside himself as soon as possible. 

Ashaad let his hands roam free on Saemus’ torso, then pulled free all the buttons that held the fine tunic together, and freed him of it, alongside with his undershirt. 

“Please tell me you have something with you we can use” Saemus said as he was laid down on his back and divested of his breeches “, some slick. I’m not sure I could take that without any.”

“I might cause you some disappointment, kadan. There’s nothing like that with me, but” Ashaad said, then kissed Saemus breathless before continuing “When you come out next, I’ll have some.”

The way he said it, but mainly what he said, made Saemus so incredibly happy, he couldn’t help but laugh a bit. Ashaad planning their next time sounded wonderful, a promise, a stable point in his life. 

“Alright. Next time it is.” He agreed, then reached up to run his fingers around the base of Ashaad’s horns. The Qunari shivered and nodded, then took Saemus’ hand and nuzzled against his palm. 

“Sit back again, I want to take both of us in hand” Saemus said, and when Ashaad did sit, he took his place on his lap again, and as he'd said he wanted, took both of their members into his hands. It felt more than nice, especially heightened by the sensation of Ashaad biting into his flesh, just below where his tunic’s neckline would reach. 

Ashaad’s warm hand enveloped his, and from that point, they didn’t talk but simply chased after their release together.

After they wiped themselves off, they talked a bit more, but Ashaad had to leave to work on his maps, and Saemus also wanted to sneak back into the keep before everyone was notified of his absence - if there had been anything he absolutely didn’t want, it was a search party sent after him. He could take care of himself, and he would show it by getting back in just as many pieces than he’d had the previous day, and he needed no chaperone to do that. 

As he set foot back into the keep, his backpack empty after their meal, and his chest strangely empty even after Ashaad’s promise of a next intimate encounter, he felt the need to turn his back and never return. Yet, he took a deep breath and went to his rooms, changed his clothes and readied himself to face his father’s inevitable anger and disappointment - again. 

**

It was a few days later that he could escape again - after a day of pretending that his stomach was upset and his head hurt, he left in the evening, hoping to catch his friend on coast before he had to go back to the Qunari compound, and once again, Saemus had to curse. If only he had a way of contacting his friend, but the carrier birds of the keep were monitored and he had no one he’d trust with carrying messages between them. As soon as he passed the last building in Kirkwall, he started to run to get to the coast as fast as he could. Sundown caught him on the shore as he was frantically looking around, already on the verge of tears. He’d had enough, he wanted his friend and life seemed to be an adversary again, taking away the only happiness he wanted. He wanted - no, he absolutely needed Ashaad to be there somewhere, to fill this huge emptiness in his chest because it ached with the pain of a dozen cuts, and he knew no healing balm for it other than the company he’d been denied for days. 

He ran, and then suddenly stopped - the last rays of the sun shone onto a lone figure walking on the shore, striding in the direction of the other gate to Kirkwall - a figure too tall to be human.

“Ashaad!” Saemus shouted and hurried after the Qunari who stopped at his cry. The boy didn’t stop until he was wrapped safely in a hug and his face was mushed into a muscular chest. 

“I don't want to go back” he whispered, and let the arms around him put his cracked world back together again. “Father is disappointed again, and this time I don’t even know where I did something wrong, or how I wasn't enough. Could you stay with me for a while?”

“Anything you need, kadan - know that these aren’t empty words. I’m here if you need me. Come, the night will get cold.” 

Ashaad pulled him towards the shore and sat him down on a rock, then went to find stones and sticks to make a fire. Watching him work, Saemus for once didn’t feel guilty for not helping, as every bone in his body felt leaden and his lungs ached as if filled with salt water. It was a horrid feeling and he wanted it gone, wanted his usual cheer back, and wanted Ashaad close again, to touch him and embrace him (and to love him, but once again, Saemus didn’t dare to hope). He let himself slouch and buried his face in his palms, then sighed. Hearing Ashaad this close to him made Saemus calm down a bit, but even so, his thoughts were all over the place, and the hurt in his heart felt a hundred times worse than the last time his father had voiced his utter displeasure with his son’s behaviour and overall existence. Once upon a time he’d wanted to be the perfect child, one who always did what his father expected and required of him, but now it sounded to him like the worst of nightmares. He desperately wanted to be able to make his father see that even like this, even with his goals and approaches, he could do what the viscount now couldn’t - helping people was what drove him out of the keep in the first place. He remembered the first time he’d escaped; he’d wanted to see how the folks under his father's care had been living, and he’d wanted to be able to report to his father if he’d seen anything that could be improved. By the time he’d gotten back to the keep, everyone was worried and his father had acted as if his son had committed a crime. He hadn’t been able to tell the man about what he’d seen in the elvhen alienage or the darktown area, nor had he been allowed to leave his rooms for a week after that. 

After a while his father had realised that no door or window or even bars could keep Saemus from leaving, and thus he’d opted for arguing and expressing his disappointment often enough for them to diminish in power and effectiveness.

And yet, this day they hurt as if all the demons from the fade were dumped into his chest to wreak havoc there, tugging and kicking at his most vulnerable feelings. 

While he’d mused, Ashaad had finished setting up a campfire. He stepped to Saemus and pulled him to his feet, then led him to the fire and sat down with him. He wrapped an arm around Saemus’ waist and offered his other hand for the boy to take if he needed to - and Saemus did. 

“I wish his expectations and I had some resemblance to each other” the fire crackled and the waves lapped at the shore as Saemus talked “It must be nice under the Qun, being assigned a role based on your abilities, and not blind hopes.”

“It creates order, and order is how things should be. That doesn’t mean that Tamassrans don’t make mistakes. Some of us do deviate from their path.” Ashaad’s voice was deep and soothing, but Saemus had caught a slight wavering in it at the end. 

“What happens if you do that? Can you be reassigned to where you wish to be?”

“There is no such thing - only reeducation. This either succeeds and then you go back to how you were, or it fails, and you live a life without anything you had. Without the Qun, or without a self that’s part of a whole.”

“Without a self?”

“I’ve heard Bas refer to them as ‘mindless vegetables’. That should tell you how much it can change us. The Qun deems it necessary, though, and the Qun is certainty.” It was weird to hear Ashaad talk, because Saemus knew how he used to sound when discussing the Qun with him, and back then, he sounded sure. Now, it felt hollow; the words were just the same, but the tone of his voice screamed of something Saemus would have never associated with Ashaad. Insecurity, uncertainty - these were things that Ashaad didn’t have, or shouldn’t at least, yet Saemus could hear them now. They were only a slight shadow in his speech, but Saemus had spent too much time with the man not to catch them. And especially with what they were discussing now, it not only felt wrong, it also promised danger and pain.

“Ashaad, you haven’t had to go through this, then, right?” 

Ashaad’s fingers tightened around Saemus’ hand, and for a moment, he refused to speak. When his answer came, it was silent and even, but it made Saemus tremble. 

“I have not. And if I had to be sent for re-education now, I think it would fail. I have far too much that draws me away from the teachings. Recently I had to consider if they were worth transgressing - whether a few moments outside of the Qun’s demands would be worth experiencing, only to forget them later.”

“If you don’t... “ Saemus started and looked up at his friend “If this is not the life you wish for, you can change it. But please, don’t let them hurt you. You deserve so much better - and I just, I don’t want you to forget what we have.”

“What do you think has me drawn from my duty and my place” Ashaad said softly, and while the words could have been accusatory, they simply felt fond. He leant sideways and placed a tender kiss on Saemus’ hair, and the boy felt his heart skip a beat. Qunari didn’t do romance - but maybe Ashaad did. “You are worth the risk, kadan.”

Saemus knelt then, laid his palms on his cheeks and kissed him hard - kissed him with all the desperation that had been building up in him, ready to break free and rage and devour. He turned all this into searing kisses and teasing bites and let his passion grow and pull Ashaad along, and soon they were both naked and wanting for more. From the pouch on his belt, Ashaad pulled a small vial, and Saemus had to grin - if anyone would keep a promise without fail, it was Ashaad. Gentle and kind and sure Ashaad who soon had his fingers slicked and who kissed him so wonderfully while he worked Saemus open. When he sank down on his cock, his thoughts fled and there remained only the feeling of safety and pleasure, and something that was even more intense at the realisation that he could take it, had taken it. It was intoxicating in a way nothing else was, and he wanted to give the same to Ashaad, so he pulled on Ashaad’s hair and bit into his neck and let himself succumb to his desire to please entirely. 

The fire burnt bright next to them as they lay together, sweaty and sticky and utterly sated, still basking in their release and the closeness of each other, and Saemus was content to let themselves fall asleep as they were and leave every question that usually would have kept him awake for the next day.

**

He should have known better. He should have known that life only allowed him crumbles of peace and illusions of safety, with Kirkwall being how it was.

The morning had started with kisses and their hands around each other’s erections, their passion burning just as bright as the previous night, pulling them towards the edge just as steadily as their coupling had. Trouble arrived after they were done bathing in the slightly cold waters of the shore, and were just about to have some of Ashaad’s rations he left untouched the previous day. It came in the form of a mercenary group, the leader of which seemed to hate Ashaad without a shared word or a greeting and who was intent on yelling about Saemus being kidnapped. 

He tried to reason with them, but their minds were set on violence and their leader’s thoughts seemed to revolve around money and the gratitude she’d be owed by the viscount. Saemus had never felt such fear as then; Ashaad fought, but there was little he could do without a meager knife that had been made to cut food and not people.

It happened so fast, Saemus could barely believe it had, for a slight second - and then panic hit him. Ashaad crumbled onto the sand and clutched a hand onto his chest, and then there was blood - a slow yet steady trickle from the wound, down his arm until it dropped off his elbow to stain the pale ground. How he’d gotten to his side, Saemus wouldn’t be able to recount, but suddenly he was there, and no more attacker dared to get close with their weapons, most possibly fearful that they’d accidentally hurt the boy they had to deliver safely. 

Saemus had never felt so much hatred and so much pain, or such fear that gripped at his throat and kept his heart frozen in place. He wanted to plan, to think about what he could do to keep Ashaad safe, to get him to some healer - and nothing emerged in his mind. He felt paralised and empty, and so utterly helpless in front of these people.

Then, as that despicable woman got closer to him to wrench him away from Ashaad, fingers already in a bruising grip around Saemus’ arm, a voice carried over to them. It demanded an explanation and by the choice of words, Saemus hazarded a guess that whoever the newly arrived man was, he was not cut from the same fabric as this thug. So he spoke up, and looked at the man and his companions and begged, pride be damned, and the man smiled. 

A few minutes later the coast was riddled with corpses of varying state of being ripped or cut apart, and while Saemus felt his stomach churn at the sight and the smell of fresh blood, he focused back on his helpers and then Ashaad. The Qunari had moved after their attackers’ attention was drawn away by their saviours, and laid down, still clutching at his wound. His face grew pale, and Saemus refused to move away from his side. 

A blond man who had stayed the furthest from the direct fighting, carrying a staff that clearly marked him a mage, walked up to them.

“That looks bad, but I could help you” he said to Ashaad with a slight nod at his chest “I’m a healer.”

“A bas saarebas? As healer” said Ashaad and Saemus could hear the disbelief in his voice - and right. Qunari mages were dangerous and healing wasn’t something they did.

“Well, whatever that means, yes, I can help you with that nice little gash you have in your chest. So. Can I help, or will I lose a hand if I try? It would be a shame, I just managed to get my nails in good shape.” Whoever the mage was, he had just the right attitude to make Saemus believe that maybe this could be true, maybe he could help - and the fact that he talked to Ashaad the same way Saemus imagined he would to a fellow human made him happy. 

“It means that you are a damned mage” came a gruff retort from one of the healer’s teammates, an elf with shock-white hair and dark skin. 

“Well, that’s true. That’s why I can offer my help. So will you accept it or not?”

“Proceed” Ashaad closed his eyes and even though he couldn’t see it, Saemus smiled at him gently. He let the healer tend to the wound, and as to not be in his way or in any shape or form a bother, went to the others who helped them. Soon, he learnt that the unofficial leader of the group was called Garret Hawke, a nobleman from Kirkwall, the white haired elf was Fenris, and they told him that the mage currently healing Saemus’ lover was Anders.

“You’re quite different from all the other nobles that swarm the keep, Serah Hawke” Saemus said, and he meant it; Hawke apparently was sent after him just like the thugs had been, but he was willing to hear him out, and even let him wait until Ashaad was in a better shape. 

“Yes, well, I’ll take that as a compliment” the man laughed, and Saemus nodded.

“I meant it as one, Serah. Most nobles wouldn’t care to help with a task deemed beneath their station, and this trip would most likely count as one - and yet here you are. Although why my father would think that I was kidnapped is beyond me. I’ve been coming to the coast for months and met no hostile creature this far.”

“You’ve been lucky then” grumbled the elf from the side, now sitting on a large boulder with a conveniently flat surface, his terrific sword leant casually against the rock. “The coast is no place for the unarmed and weak.”

“It’s been safe til these bandits appeared, almost killing Ashaad in my father’s name” Saemus said and a shiver ran through him. It had been terrifying, kneeling next to his lover, knowing that nothing he’d do would help - a feeling he never wanted to experience again. 

“I thank you all again, Serah Hawke, Serah Fenris, I can’t even imagine what would have I done, had you not appeared. I shall go back with you and face my father - if his reward goes to anyone, it should be you who get it. But I will not stay.”

Saemus sighed, and looking at the hunched figure of the mage leaning over Ashaad, his hands glowing a pale blue, he came to a decision he should have made long ago. 

“I’m sure your father would be rather displeased, should you do that” Hawke remarked, and Saemus groaned.

“He will be displeased with something I do til I draw my last breath. I’ve tried reasoning with him, telling him that my place is not in the keep - and most certainly not as a viscount one day. He keeps his eyes closed to most things, as you may have noticed. The city is unraveling, tensions are high and people do suffer, no matter what those in the keep say” Saemus felt desperation fill his chest as he spoke, but the way Hawke was nodding his head spurred him on. “I’ve visited the alienage and saw how the elves have to live - how do they deserve less than the human or dwarven citizens? And then there’s darktown - I wouldn’t wish anyone to have to endure such conditions. I’ve heard tales about what goes down in there almost every day, and it horrifies me. Same with the circle. No one should be punished for made up crimes, such as wishing to be free…”

Saemus looked at Ashaad, then quietly added “Or left with no memories or feeling for simply loving someone.” 

“The things you speak of are vastly different” Fenris scoffed with distaste clear on his face, and Saemus tilted his head curiously. “Mages are a bigger threat than any Qunari who doesn’t wield magic. Their power should never be left unsupervised - or you get another Imperium growing right under your feet.”

“I’d say your friends do supervise their magic well enough for themselves” Saemus said, and indicated towards Hawke, then the healer.

“That abomination is no friend of mine!” Indignation practically oozed off of the elf as he spoke, and he looked absolutely murderous, yet Hawke only laughed.

“Aw, Fenris don’t act all grumpy about people not knowing he’s your lover” he laughed, then dodged a torn off chunk of rock Fenris had thrown at him.

“Ah, forgive me then, Serah. My point still stands - and considering the saarebas, I’d say that maybe it’s how mages are taught, that makes all the difference. But I should consult with more of them to be able to draw a more or less correct conclusion.”

“The way you speak, it’s truly a shame you don’t wish to step up as a viscount one day. Maybe you could make all the difference you want to see.” Hawke said, but then crossed his arms as he continued “Alas, I know how being burdened by a position you wish rather not to have, can feel. What would you do instead?” 

“I’m unsure. I have been taught what a nobleman ought to know - I can read and write, do calculus even better than my father and I’m not bad at planning, either. But as far as helpful skills go, I’m afraid I have nothing.”

“You just listed two things that most of those you say you care about have no access to” came from Fenris, looking away, as if uncertain whether he should continue speaking. He did so anyway. “Both the ability to read or write can open up a whole new world to those who don’t possess them yet. You could teach.”

Saemus considered it, and although he had absolutely no idea how one started teaching, he did like the idea. If he could bring change to people’s lives, he’d be happy.

“The mage - Anders - is also looking to take in an apprentice. He says the workload is a bit too much with this new cold going around in Darktown.” Fenris added, and Saemus brightened up at that - it would be worth a try, to see if he was cut out to help where it was needed.

“Yes. I’d like to speak to him about that - but first I have to deal with my father. I’d forever despise myself if I brought trouble to your doorsteps in exchange for the help you’ve provided us.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll stay in the keep while you talk to him. Then.... We shall see what happens then.”

Fenris nodded, and Saemus felt that whether it was the Maker, the Dalish gods or anything else molding fate, they had blessed him with these people. 

“Serah Hawke, if I may trouble you with something else?”

“Sure, shoot. I’m all ears” he laughed, and wiggled his eyebrows as if it was meant as a joke, but if it was, it was lost on Saemus. 

“Please don’t tell me you kept that disgusting relic” Fenris groaned, and Saemus had to laugh at that, especially after seeing the indignant expression Hawke had made at the comment.

“Not like it helps or anything” Hawke put his arms in front of his chest, to which Fenris only murmured something about caves and spiders, but ultimately left it at that.

“So, what’s it you need?”

“If you know a place we could stay at with Ashaad, should he wish to come with me, I’d be grateful if you let me know.”

Hawke was just about to answer when the healer joined them, leading a slightly pale Ashaad by his arm, and any question Saemus might have had, flew out of his mind. Ashaad on his feet again was a sight nothing could match in that moment, after what they had been through that day. 

Ashaad reached out and brought him to his chest, and as Saemus lifted his fingers to where the scar had been, he only found smooth skin. It was real - Ashaad was safe and sound, the people he'd trusted with their safety had helped them, and in that moment, in Ashaad’s embrace, he found that the world - the future - seemed a lot brighter than mere weeks, days before. They exchanged a slow kiss, then another, and Saemus found that he didn’t mind the whistle coming from Hawke. If that was the only reaction their relationship was going to get, he would be more than happy. Carefully he took Ashaad’s hands and held them to his own chest, content in knowing that their time together had only begun.

**Author's Note:**

> I've honestly grown to love this setting and how Ashaad and Saemus' relationship was going, so I might write a sequel one day about their adventures with Saemus as a healer after the Kirkwall years.


End file.
